Visits to You
by bucklind17
Summary: Rent song-fic... sometimes it's leaving the ones you love that's the hardest... m/r-ish


visits Disclaimer: "Visits to You" was written by Anthony Rapp and Joe Pisapia. The characters, of course, are Jonathan's.   
My note: I'm in such an Anthony phase and I was listening to this song and for some reason I saw it as something more. I don't know what the song is about, but it seems to fit. I think someone may have done a songfic to this, but I can't remember who or what it was about. Anyway, I know the characters probably seem a little OOC but I also think it fits the situation. Any ideas for revision would be greatly appreciated. Thanks to Maddie for encouraging me to post this!   


Visits to you   
Are suddenly new   
And suddenly everything's sacred 

The look on your face at the end of each visit breaks my heart. The departure hurts you, the moments we aren't together. I realize we've never needed each other this much, I've never wanted you by my side more than I do right now. I've never wanted your hand in mine, or your fingers gently tracing my face. Suddenly, every moment we have together is a moment we may never have again. Any moment can mean it's over. It was never easy for me to show you what I was feeling, especially when it came to my feelings about you. The whole fact is, my heart beats faster when you're around. I feel this fullness in my heart that I've never felt before. No woman has ever made me want to rush home just to get there before she leaves, so that I don't have to go through the day without seeing her an extra time. No woman has ever made me actually catch my breath in my throat with a smile or laugh. No woman has ever brought me to tears.   
I was afraid to tell you. I was afraid that if you found out, everything would change, everything I loved about the friendship that we have. And I couldn't be sure you would understand me if I were to tell you. I've broken you too many times for someone who claims to love you and sometimes I wish I could just take it back, if only because you take so long to mend. I knew you weren't expecting something like this from me, and I could just see it ruining you, scaring you away from me. I didn't think I'd be able to live with that. But you surprised me by saying you loved me too. 

I've been here before   
Will I be here again?   
Please tell me you'll never be taken 

The disease decided to creep up on us. I think it must have had a mind of it's own, it must have known that we were finally finding ourselves in each other's lives. We were starting to see that we were more than best friends, that we liked it that way. We were Mark and Roger, Roger and Mark. Our friends thought it was strange because they never thought that Mark could admit that he was gay or that the idea that he loved Mark would ever make it through Roger's dense head. Mark was too insecure and Roger was too tough. But I guess when you really love someone, all those feelings go away. And once our friends caught onto that, they started to see that it was working, that it was true.   
Memories started to fill my mind as the sickness worsened. Happy days in the loft, when everyone was around. The morning of your birthday, which I had vowed not to forget. I had arranged for Maureen, Joanne, Mimi, Angel and Collins to come over before you woke up, but you were already in the shower when they arrived. You had come out of the shower wearing only a towel, not expecting a crowd and the reaction on your face was priceless as I exclaimed "Well, there he is, Birthday Boy! Droplets off water cascading down his hot bod! This body, ladies and gentlemen, is just the benefits of working out daily!" and the oohs and aahs that followed. I started to wish more and more that I could see you, that I could see us, that happy again.   
Trips to the hospital became a routine and I could not stop worrying that you would just give up. You didn't want to deal with all this, you didn't need to deal with all this, I knew you were doing it for me. It's hard for you. Hell, it's hard for me. I don't want to leave you. I hate leaving you; I hate the time between our visits because it's just a few more hours that you're not with me. 

Is this another time?   
Or is this the last time?   
How much more time?   
When will time take away   
My visits to you 

We were in and out of the hospital for a month. Every time we thought we were home for good, something would happen, a hollow cough, a high fever, anything that could send us back. I couldn't help but wonder how many more times we would go through this before it was over for good. Every trip was another time. Or was it the last time? Every departure grew harder as the idea of death became clearer in our heads. The idea of living without each other. 

Living with this   
Holding your hand   
Knowing I'll have to let go soon 

I'd hold your hand and you'd whisper how much you love me. And I'd smile and whisper that I love you back. We'd both try to hold back our tears like real men, but I'm telling you now, it was so damn hard. We'd watch the clock, our hands entwined, waiting for the nurse to come in and tell us that visiting hours were over. And we'd hold on as long as we could, both of us afraid that something could happen in the night, that something could take our love away from us. Knowing that letting go this time could mean letting go for good. 

Living right now   
And right now and right now   
Knowing I'll soon be without you 

I hate thinking about it. I hate the idea of it. It's supposed to be easier for me, because the end will end my suffering, but I can't believe that. I can only think of right now, of everything that IS, not everything that will never be again. The thought of not seeing your beautiful face, hearing your voice or feeling your arms around me…how can I not be scared? How can anyone look me in the face and tell me that I shouldn't be scared? I've never been more scared in my life. And the fear isn't of this disease, the disease I can take, the disease I can fight, the fear is of being without you. 

Is this another time?   
Or is this the last time?   
How much more time?   
When will time take away   
My visits to you 

I start to want you with me all the time. The departures are too much for me, for both of us, and the nurses are noticing. They let us be together longer. They don't tear us apart anymore. They can see the end is near. They set up a little cot so that we can spend the night together too. I'm glad. Your dreams are getting worse, and I want to be there to dry your tears. I can't believe you hid this from me, that those nights alone were spent sobbing. I hurts me to know that I make you cry. It always has, but back when I could help it, it didn't matter as much. I have no control over this, and it's now that I wish I could make it all better. I wish you weren't strong for me. I wish you'd cry, that you would let the tears out in front of me, because then I could cry too. I could never be the first to cry. 

And when you go where you're going   
Where will you be going?   
I know I'll keep going   
On my visits to you 

I know the end when it comes. You are by my side, just as you were through it all. You whisper to me that you're leaving New York, you can't stay here anymore, there's too much pain. What doesn't remind you of Angel and Mimi will remind you of me. You can't deal with that. You don't know where you will go, but I hope I can be with you. I know that through all of this, you have been visiting me, and all of a sudden I realize that our visits do not have to stop. I recall Collins talking about dreams of Angel, dreams that proved to him that she was there with him, and I hope that I will be able to do that for you. I hope I can give you that sense of peace and solace that Angel gives Collins. I will find Angel and we'll frequent the loft, and on goofy days we will knock over vases or make the shades shutter.   
This idea is supposed to make me feel better, but it doesn't. What if you don't know I'm there? What if you pass off every kiss as the wind? What if you don't see me in your dreams? I start to shake and you stir in your sleep. I cry harder, unable to stop, and you wake. You come over to me and put your arms around me and whisper in my ear. I grip at you and I never want to let you go. I love you, Mark. I'm sorry for the times I never told you. I'm sorry for all the times I hurt you. I'm sorry for not admitting how much you really mean to me. I hate when you leave me, but now I must leave you… 

Is this another time?   
Or is this the last time?   
How much more time?   
When will time take away   
When will time take away   
When will time take away   
My visits to you   
  
  
  



End file.
